gotham2

seven o clock.
i've not really slept.
too fucking sick and drugged.
the wind is something fierce, kept blowing shut the windows.
no one else will hear it...
all too wasted and deep in sleep.
merry fucking christmas.
let's just get this over with.

holy shit... almost christmas.
time to celebrate the birth of santa claus, and all that is consumerism.

if somebody out there likes me
if somebody out there cares
deliver me from evil
save me from these wicked snares...

"angel headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night."

we couldn't all be razorblades,
some of us are terror and anguish.
i wanted to be innocence,
and let my sugar-coated sexuality
consume the heaven sent arguements.

exams at eight o clock.
fucking sinister